And now for something (not so) completely different

Most people would apologize for not updating their blog for weeks on end. You’ll get no such apology from me however. First of all, I have high doubts that I’ve significantly thrown off any of your daily routines. In fact I’d be willing to bet very few of you even noticed I was gone. This is sad, but not unforeseen.

Second of all (all in this case being two), I am currently planning a wedding, searching for a job and pretending I have already one at the Niagara Region. This means I am, and will be for the foreseeable future, rather busy. However, as a rare glimpse into my inward ponderings will now reveal, I really do hope this blog doesn’t become lost in the endless annals of blogs you randomly find on a Google search that look really interesting but haven’t been updated since 2007. For your sake and mine, I will do my best to continue my blogging habit.

And now, a picture of a habit:

Next on the agenda, assuming you haven’t run off in search of more pictures of habits and other thought-provokingly modest articles of clothing, is a departure from my normal operating procedure. The title of this blog is Kijunkers, the first three letters of which signify Kijiji. While I often enjoy scouring the endless pages of vehicles on the webernet looking for lost gems of glory, I have had repeated complaints from the voices in my head that this is a very geeky and unsatisfyingly disconnected way of doing things.

There are reasons why there are no online car shows (well, maybe there are, but for the purposes of my upcoming argument, which will be both cogent and romantically nostalgic, let’s pretend there aren’t). For one thing, baby-boomers don’t know how to use Google images. They also don’t know how to use chat rooms. Even if they did, I highly doubt the normal conversation that happens at a car show would translate well over the internet. Too much grunting, nodding and too many unsubstantiated stories that take place in the 60’s, a decade which everyone now knows never existed.

Point being, there’s something about experiencing a car in the metal that defies digitization. As much as I love sitting on my couch scrolling through Kijiji ads while my brain slowly migrates onto another plane of existence, I would much rather shuffle around a used-car lot with my hands in my pockets acting like a self-righteous know-it-all and complaining about how overpriced everything is.

What this all means is that from now on my posts will incorporate more real-life car sightings, with real photographic evidence from me, the next Ansel Adams. Aren’t you just so excited now? Well worry not; your jubilation shall not wain in wanting of the fulfillment of my promise. Visit back here every 20 minutes to see when I post the first of my innovative and never-done-before in-person Kijunkers post! Share! Tweet! Tell your mother! Drive up my pageview count!

“But wait”, I hear you along with the choir in my head saying. “You just went on and on about experiencing cars in person, and yet your posts are still going to be on the internet.” To that I say, good point. Until, that is, Internet 2: the sequel (yes, it is a real thing, look it up) comes out. Then you’ll be able to pair Kijunkers with your Google-goggles (they’re real too) to get the full used-car experience.

Rock on.

Christmas in March

It's even snowing outside right now; it's a sign! But seriously, hello jackpot!

Full ad

I love Kijiji

No words are needed here. Found in the 'Classic Cars' section:

Full ad

1986 Chrysler Executive

Seeing as though it's a Sunday, and Sunday's always something to celebrate, let's start this post off with some Cake.

Now, I know that no one really needs an excuse to post Cake, but since I care about you, my readers, and do not wish you to go through the next six hours of your life with Short Skirt, Long Jacket stuck in your head without knowing why, I'll explain my reason for so brightening up your day.

I was on the internet today, and I found this:

I know what you're thinking, and I want one too, but neither of us can have it. I also found this for sale in Beamsville, and this one you can have, if you pay the $5,900 asking price:

It's a 1986 Chrysler Executive limousine, one of 138 manufactured in '86. Now, how far along are you in the song (you have been playing it, haven't you)? The third stanza makes mention of a white Chrysler LeBaron, which formed the basis for this wonderful block of an automobile. I know that may be a lame reason for posting the song, But I like Cake, and I know you do too, so just enjoy it for what it is.

Now, I don't know why you'd be in the market for an 80's limousine that probably smells of mothballs and spilled Pepsi, but if you are, you probably won't find anything more interesting than this.

I am fully aware, however, that that's not saying much. I'll be the first to tout the K-Car's significance in Chrysler's fight for survival, and I'll sing Lee Iacocca's praises until the Lord calls me home, but I still think that every single car that rides on that K-Car platform is about as visually interesting as a plate of stale carrots. If you ask me, if the design of a car can be exactly duplicated using only 3 blocks of Lego, that design needs a bit more personality injected into it.

You're not getting much excitement in the powertrain department either. The Executive carries over the LeBaron's snoozer of a 2.2 L four-cylinder, and isn't likely to ruffle anyone's panties (except, perhaps, Jon Voight's).

So why am I posting this? I don't know; go ask George Costanza. It's been a slow couple of weeks on Kijiji lately, and the pickings are slim in terms of stuff I'd actually want to buy. So instead I'm just going to sit here and rock out to some more Cake. Peace out, homeslices of the Webinet.

Full ad

1997 Ferrari 355

It's not every day you see a Ferrari pop up for sale in little old St. Catharines. But today is not just every other day; today is March 6, 2012! And you know what that means: it's international Sell-Your-Crummy-Ferrari day! Ferrari owners from around the world are gathering this very moment to gripe about their fast, expensive sports cars and try to pawn them off on unsuspecting by-passers.

Rapper Moe Hose publicly burns
his sportscar in an effort to gather
fellow Ferrari-haters.

The event began in 2005 when rapper, philanthropist and gardener extraordinaire Moe Hose decided to take action against the world-renowned sports cars. Attempting to vent his frustration at the excessive number of women that would throw themselves at his supercar, Hose publicly burned his '02 Ferrari Enzo and posted the video to Youtube. The video quickly went viral, and soon reports started surfacing of entire clubs of discontented corporate fat-cats, who gathered together in mutual hatred of their mighty machines of manliness.

These clubs soon banded together to organize an international Ferrari-shedding festival, where thousands of unwanted speed machines are peddled from the hands of richlings into the grimy paws of the unwashed masses, who are blissfully unaware of the massive service charges that are about to ruin what financial assets they had left.

 Our local Ferraris Suck - Niagara Chapter's entrance into this worldwide phenomenon comes in the form of this '97 F355 Spider. The spiteful F-car owners' club president, Rich N. Bichenne, opines on its crappidity, "What we have here is a bloody awful example of how not to use the colour blue".

Bichenne also disapproves of the car's piddly-poor performance specifications. "Look, it's only got 380hp, and it takes nigh-on forever (4.6s) to get to 100km/h. Besides, look at it, it's got no roof!"

 Bichenne and his rich friends, who are currently in the self-described "non-prescription medication transaction" industry, are searching for an up-and-coming young professional who once had a poster of the F355 on his or her wall. "It's the perfect crime," says Bichenne, "We'll have young guys come and look at the car, thinking they can afford the $75 grand, and not knowing an oil change will only set them back, oh, I don't know, $15,000". *cackle*

Asked whether he would burn the car in the event that it does not sell, Bichenne told us to mind our own business, and strongly discouraged us from opening the trunk, which seemed to be leaking a fine, white, powdery substance.

Full ad

1983 Datsun 280 Z

Up on the proverbial auction block from St. Kitts is this '83 Datsun 280Z. For those who are familiar with the Z, Datsun/Nissan's small sports car, you'll appreciate what this car is not. It is not achingly gorgeous like the original 240Z, nor is it a mechanical and technological tour-de-force like the 300ZX Twin Turbo. It is, in its own semi-endearing way, very 80's. The blocky, awkward styling that is the result of the mutilation of the 240's near-perfect lines makes the car something of a disappointment to look at. Really, all you can do is think of what the 240 looks like, look at this, and say "well, that's a shame," and walk away.

I'll be honest about this one; I wouldn't buy it, and I see no compelling reason why you would either. The only reason I'm posting this is so I can share with you this TV ad, which, I'm sure you'll agree, comprises the best 31 seconds of 80's goodness ever recorded.

The 'stache, man, the 'STACHE! Full ad

EDIT: Breaking (30 years ago) news! I have found yet another sweet-action 80's 280ZX ad. In its own words: AWESOME.

1991 Mazda Miata BRG

My second (current) white '90

There are some really weird people out there. I don't mean Trekkie weird or tin-foil hat-wearing 'hide in their basement to shield yourself from the government's brainwashing sonic waves' weird. The weirdos I'm talking about are those who will buy the same thing, over and over again, for no good purpose other than to have it.

This is me.

When I turned 18 and finished high school, I set about searching for a first car. I toyed with a few ideas, most of which in retrospect were not worth toying with (30-year old rusty sports coupes with no brakes have their appeal, trust me.), until my dad dropped me a line about a white 1990 Miata for sale a few blocks down the road. I scoffed at the idea. Miata? Pffft total girl's car. However, to homour my father, I agreed to take a look. We met the owner (Hartley Strauss, husband of Angie Strauss), and took the car for the proverbial spin around the block. Words can scarce describe the euphoria that enveloped me tighter than the cramped cockpit. Never had I so much fun going so slowly.

Miata fever struck me for the second time two-and-a-half years later, when I came home one day with another, nearly identical white '90 in tow I had found on Kijiji a few days prior. It was slightly cleaner than my old one, and had fewer kilometers on it, so it kind of made a little bit of rational sense. I mean, lots of people buy two copies of the same exact car, right?

Anywho, that winter, twin white Miatas slept together in the garage, and after realizing I could only drive (and afford) one car at a time, I sold the old one, and have been driving Miata #2 for the past three years.

Miata Fever is again gnawing away at my brain, and while this time I'll be forced to restrain myself, I heartily encourage one of you to delve into the small and cramped (in a cuddly way) yet superbly fun world of the Mazda Miata.

This wonderful little '91 British Racing Green version, for sale in Ridgeway for $5,950 is a Miata-lover's dream come true. It's clean, well-appointed (for a Miata), low mileage, and sports that wonderfully iconic forest-y green paint. It also includes the optional matching hardtop, which in good condition is a sought-after commodity in the Miata world, fetching up to $800-$1000.

I really can't tell you what a joy these cars are to drive and to own. In my five years of Miata ownership, I've gone just about everywhere, including off-road through the middle of muddy vineyards, in them, and have had fun every mile of it. I've also become rather familiar with the mechanicals of the car, and even though the drivetrain is bulletproof, it can be a pain to work on sometimes (replacing the convertible top was a grueling 18-hour job). But hey, it's a bonding experience.

Please, somebody buy this car before I do something very reckless ... again.

Full ad

1969 MG Midget

Kid's way too young to handle
that kind of power.

Remember how much fun you had as a kid 'driving' around in your Little Tikes Cozy Coupe spitting motor noises and brake screeches? Neither do I. Remember doing the same thing as an adult? Don't bother denying it; we both know what it's like barreling down a grassy hill, legs sticking out the windows and neck bent in unnatural ways.

Now you can relive that same experience in a much less embarrassing way with this '69 MG Midget. This shining 'black beauty', as the seller describes it, resides in St. Catharines and is ready to be swept off it's tires (seriously, you can probably just pick it up and squeeze it into your jeans pocket) for only $4,900, which, in my opinion, is a steal.

Now, I'm no stranger to small cars. I've lived with a small, cramped sports car for four years now, and can honestly say that I've never had any trouble doing what needs to be done with my '90 Miata. No, you can't take the kitchen sink with you wherever you go, and no, you can't shuttle multiple friends around in it, but hey, that doesn't always have to be a bad thing. Plus, I have, against all odds, figured out a safe and secure* way of transporting two sets of golf clubs with nothing more than a few bungie cords and a little bit of ingenuity.

However, even coming from a Miata, this is a certifiably small car. I dare say anyone over three foot will have a most troublesome time stepping into one while retaining his or her dignity, and there is approximately a 0% chance of exiting the vehicle without necessitating a trip to the physiotherapist. You'll also look like a dork driving it. All people will see will be what appears to be a human head poking out of a child's shoe zipping down the road.

I would suspect some of you have seen, or heard of, the MGB. Picture one of those scaled down to 75%, and what you have is the Midget. Originally based off of the Austin Healy Sprite (of frog-eye fame), the Midget was built and sold from 1961-1980, and was powered by a variety of powerplants, all of which could be deftly out-powered by a Magic Bullet.

But man, what I wouldn't do for the chance to drive that car. The seller describes it as a go-kart, and coming from a Miata, I know exactly what he means. There are few pleasures in life that can compare to the child-like elatedness that comes from tossing around a tiny, nimble roadster. It's a very freeing feeling, and I would commend anyone who's feeling the burdens of daily life weighing down on them like a wet anvil to go out, buy a roadster and rip it through some country roads for a few hours.

Toy car. Full ad

Choice Midget ad for bonus marks:

1994 Subaru SVX

I do not often enjoy my morning commute. Spending 45 minutes in a rattly old Accord with no heat, listening to Matt Galloway's scratchy voice on the CBC does little to rouse me from the near-comatose state my mind find so comfortable.

The coffee cups that little the desks of my classmates when I get to class bely the fact that I'm not the only one who shares this experience. I, however, have no coffee to perk me up in the morning; I'm too cheap to stop at Tims and too unmotivated to make some myself.

My morning wake-up comes not from caffeine, but rather from a quirky little coupe that passes me on Highway 58 almost every morning. Call me pathetic, but seeing a mostly forgotten '90's GT coupe makes me smile when few other things could.

I'll wager a cup of coffee, and maybe even a donut, that none of you have heard of the Subaru SVX, despite its magnificence. Introduced to North America in 1991, the SVX featured all-wheel-drive, a 3.3 L boxer 6, and its most defining feature, what Subaru called an "aircraft-inspired glass-to-glass canopy".

The sleek Guigaro-designed looks and the freakazoid windows did little to soothe the SVX's high sticker price of $24-28,000 however, and demand for Subaru's GT coupe never got close to its sales targets. As a result, these coolmobiles are fairly hard to find, which makes me all the more attracted to them. I wouldn't buy this one myself, as it looks pretty rough, but were a nice clean one to wend its way into my life, I wouldn't complain.

Those windows must a pain to clean though. Yeesh.

Full ad

(Shout-out to the guy who drives a dark green SVX out of Welland every morning. For those who are currently rocking, We (I) salute you.)

1985 Buick Riviera Convertible

Speaking of the 80's, here's another gem that just popped up on my radar. It's an '85 Buick Riviera, and while it's not quite as visually appealing as the stunning '71 boattail, it's still a pretty cool example of the 'personal luxury car' that so personified American auto manufacturers in the 20th century.

Powered by a 125 HP 4.1 L V6, the sixth generation Riv' was significantly lower powered than its predecessors, and is an example of what was then a dying breed of car. small personal cockpits surrounded by acres of good 'ole Detroit iron had been a staple for American auto companies since the 50's, or arguably earlier. They signified the power and dominance of booming America, and all the extravagance and wastefulness it brought with it. But with the first and second oil crises taking their toll on gas prices, Americans could no longer afford personal land barges like the Riviera, and they began to fade into eventual extinction.

This Riviera then shows some of the death pangs of personal luxury cars. With a small wheezy V6 attempting to push around 4,000lbs of America's ego, it was a mere shadow of its  former glory days.

Depressing, isn't it? You too can be reminded of the lost days of American prosperity every day of your life for only $4,900. It's pretty clean, inside and out, and with only 75,000kms on the clock, you'll have plenty of depressing, top-down days of puttering around town showing off how great things used to be. Isn't that worth living for? Isn't that worth dying for?

Full ad

1988 Mercury Cougar XR7

Sometimes I like to pretend that America stopped making cars between 1974 and 1993. It soothes my soul to think that cars like the AMC Eagle were never really brought into this world, but rather reside only in the land of hallucinations and nightmares.

Occasionally, however, I see something that helps me believe that at least one person in the American auto industry was using his brain for more than 10 consecutive minutes.

Today that gem in the junk heap was this '88 Cougar XR7. I'm sure some of you know of the Cougar, Mercury's small-ish coupe. The car has quite a storied history, stretching from way back in 1967, when it was the kin of the Ford Mustang, all the way to its anticlimactic demise in 2002 because of slow sales. The XR7 nameplate has for most of those years signified the high(er) performance version of the Cougar, and is a tad rarer than the base Cougar.

This XR7, for sale in Niagara Falls right now for a cool $4,500 belongs to the sixth rendition of the Cougar, which was based on the Ford Thunderbird and housed a 302ci V8. Yes, it looks weird, but in a good way. The upward kink and vertical rear window that gives the Cougar/Thunderbird its unique greenhouse are symptomatic of the (mostly failed) styling experiments of the 80's, and help the car stand out from the myriad of straight-edged boxes that make up most car designs from that era.

For some reason, clean, low mileage performance cars from the past, even if the performance too is indicative of the past, appeal to my sense of adventure. Would an '88 Cougar be a sensible car for a young family? No. Would it be a wise use of my non-existent money? No. Would it help me save the planet and lower my gas bill? Perhaps, if I drove only down steep hills. But something about it grabs my curiosity and won't let it go. It's big, it's loud, and it's red. And I want it.

Forgotten. Full ad












Creepy Cougar ad from 1987:

1994 Ski-Doo Formula Z

Okay, okay, it's not a car. Sue me. I'm a snowmobile guy; I've loved them all my life. Mind you, when one spends 12 years of one's life in the Ottawa Valley, one has little choice but to be a snowmobile guy. Up there, it matters not if you have a car. What matters most is not even if you have a sled, but how many sleds you have. We only had two at a time, but we put them to good use, when they were running.

I was kind of a weird kid. When my brother and I were about seven and five, we used to watch video tapes on Saturdays to pass the time. You may think to yourself that this is a fine and normal thing to do, until you learn that those videos were not movies, or TV shows or sporting events. No, on Saturday mornings, we used to watch and re-watch Ski-Doo promotional videos. By the end of the winter, I could have told you so about Ski-Doo's 1995 lineup, I'm surprised Bombardier never hired me as a spokesperson.

Now that I think about it, that would be a fantastic PR move. Brainwash a seven year-old to regurgitate company slogans and information to his seven year-old friends, who would then nag their fathers to go out and buy a new Ski-Doo.

Aside from my Brave New World-esque PR philosophies, I have another thing for you to buy into: this '94 Formula Z.

Is there anything special about it? Not really. It's an okay machine at an okay price. It's for sale in Dunnville (because else is there to do in Dunnville other than snowmobile?) for $1,200, and it would be a reasonably nice machine to get into if one wanted to take up the sport. The real reason I'm posting it, however, is because the moment I saw the ad, it transported me back to those Saturday afternoons of my childhood. I must have watched this video, promoting the 1995 Ski-Doo lineup (albeit, this is just the introduction) about 700 times.

I still love the '95 Ski-Doos. They look so muscular and purposeful, yet lithe and comfortable, and the colour differentiation between the models is a brilliant touch.

Feel free to watch it as many times as I have, and know that right now, I am reliving my childhood, over and over and over again.


Full ad

1966 Chevy C-Series Pickup

This post is dedicated to my beautiful fiancee Katie, without whom I would never have thought to make a Valentine's day blog post about cars (nor would, I imagine, most normal people).

Old pickup trucks have something of an allure for both of us. Katie's love of country music has spread, without resistance, to me, and as I listen to it more and more, the idea of charging through country roads on warm summer nights, listening to the growl of an old pickup and wearing slightly ridiculous hats is becoming more and more agreeable to me.

So when I happen upon something like this, your quintessential country music video star, it makes me think of her and smile. We both love long road trips, and I truly do value the time we get to spend together doing something we both love: driving. As we're set to be married in barely three months, I look forward to many more road trips and many more country music songs with the girl I love, even if it's not in a vehicle as iconic as this. <3

Full ad

It's Valentine's Day, and love is in the exhaust

It amazes me sometimes how interconnected life can be, and how the most material things can often deeply affect the immaterial. Cars are one of those peculiar material things that somehow have the ability to be quiet, and sometimes not so quiet, players in the grand (or soap) opera that is life.

Blogging about cars for sale on Kijiji may seem like a bit of a mindless endeavour, and that is certainly part of the appeal. Browsing Kijiji is something I like to do to relax and take my mind off of more serious things, and the freedom to write lightly and flippantly helps me de-stress and unwind.

Behind the escapist element in car-blogging, however, lies a much more personal motivation. For me, cars are not simply vehicles of transportation. They are not simply amalgams of steel, plastic and rubber that ferry us to and fro. No, they are much more than that. They are pieces of art; they are hobbies; they are passions; and most importantly, they are storytellers.

Nestled in a dust-laden garage in Grimsby sleeps this '73 VW Karmann Ghia. It doesn't look like much; It's fairly beat-up and the price isn't spectacular for a Ghia in this condition. Cars, however, are often more than the sum of their parts, and for me, this particular one tells a story worth much more than the $3,500 asking price.

The early morning heat could be seen rising in waves from steel hoods as the long line of cars, like a swarm of flies at the sight of fresh meat, gushed through the gates of the Geneva Street GM plant. Among and around the big American pickups, and looking very out of place, zipped a small and sleek sports car. The dusty black beauty neatly ducked into a free spot and its owner, after squeezing his lanky limbs through the small door, sprang out and onto his feet.

Before he had the chance to set off towards the plant however, a noise of rushing wind and squealing brakes made him whirl around to see a red blur squirm its way neatly into the spot next to him. As the familiar-sounding engine ceased its chattering and the driver door clicked open, a short, pretty woman cautiously pulled herself out of the car. Her flowing, yet meticulously styled blond hair whipped about as she nervously fumbled to collect her things, and she barely took notice of the young man sidling around her brand new Ghia, his hands in his pockets and his eyebrows raised in admiration.

My grandmother is, and as far as I know always has been, one of the cleanest people I have ever met, and I can only imagine the difference in appearance of those two almost-identical cars sitting beside each other. She was a house-sitter in Austria before the war drove her and her family to America, and if you've ever met an Austrian, you will know that they treat dust, dirt and disorder as though it were a physical manifestation of sin itself. My grandfather, on the other hand, was a laid-back farm boy, who spent his summers toiling among the fruit trees, a true Niagaran. He loved motorcycles and waterskied across Lake Ontario, backwards, for fun.

Apart from their cars, which sparked a conversation, and ultimately more, I cannot fathom how these two personalities would have connected, still less how they would have married and peacefully co-existed for so long. They kept both cars for several years, and eventually sold my grandfather's black one. The red one they kept, and of it I have heard many long-winded stories. From near-deadly highway crashes to bringing my mother home from the hospital, that little red VW was as much a part of my grandparents' early life as were they themselves. 

Karmann Ghias are not rare cars, but they're not particularly common ones either, so whenever I see one up for sale, especially if it's red or black, I get a little tinge of happiness and an eery realization that this car was instrumental in my coming into existence. It reminds me of the extraordinary spot that ordinary items can hold in people's hearts, and makes me value a little more the things we often take for granted.

Full ad

1962 Chevrolet Apache?

Maybe all you truck guys out there can help me out on this one. What I've found is described by the seller as a '62 Chevy Apache Panel truck. The ad claims that only 1,100 of these trucks were made, with 700 going to the military and only 400 being sold to the public.

I did a bit of internet sleuthing, which uncovered precious little. I found information on the '55-'59 Apaches, which I knew of, but no mention of these things. I found one other for sale in Medicine Hat, Alberta in pretty rough shape:

If what the seller claims is true, this is an extremely rare and Earth-shatteringly cool vehicle. The Medicine Hat car confirms the engine specs in the ad; it houses a 235cid unit and what looks to be a living room in the back:

If anyone has any information on these guys or can corroborate the claims made in the ad, please share! It's for sale right now in Fort Erie, and I'm thinking of emailing the guy to ask for more info.

Enigma. Full ad

1964 Ford Econoline Falcon Pickup

Conventional pickup trucks are boring. You, on the other hand, are anything but. You're a super-cool, hip, rad and poppin' fresh trendster, and everyone on the block should know that you're unique. You're a wacky person, and you need a wacky truck to go along with your personality.

You've also got $12,000 burning a hole in your pocket, which is why you need to buy this:

I don't know why we moved away from cab-forward trucks. It could be because a frontal collision would push the engine forward into the cabin, crushing your feet, but we'll ignore that for the time being.They're purposeful and utilitarian, and at the same time are oh-so-chic. Plus, you never have to worry about rear-ending someone because you can't discern the end of your truck's obnoxiously long snout.

This particular example is for sale in St. Catharines, and for the shape it's in, if you want to spend 12 grand on a 60's pickup, there's not a more stylish way to do it.

Cab-forward trucks were kind a strange trend in the 60's. Ford ran with it for a while and so did Dodge, and of course one cannot forget the iconic Volkswagen microbuses that started the shaggin' wagon trend. It was only the VW however, that stuck with the idea and carried it forward.

And now for your viewing pleasure, here are some pretty sweet cab-forwards from this site and elsewhere:

Cute truck. Full ad

1969 Oldsmobile Cutlass

DEAL ALERT: For sale right now in St. Kitts is this rather cool-looking '69 Cutlass. The best part: The price, at only $2,500. Tempting? Very.

Is it perfect? No. Does it have issues? Probably. Does it move under its own power? Maybe on a steep hill. But for $2,500 and a buzzcut, you too could be a 40-something bald guy who neglects his wife in order to spend Saturdays drinking beer and tinkering with his 'baby'.

Deal. Full ad

1978 Chrysler Cordoba

Soft. Corinthian. Leather. Those three words have echoed through the annals of advertising history like a rusty soup can clattering down an empty Detroit street. When screen legend Ricardo Montalban took to the screen to endorse the 1975 Chrysler Cordoba, it was as if the heavens were rent open to allow a mediocre film star to reach from his moderately high pedestal and display before the world the epitome of America's 1970's auto woes. If any of you are unfamiliar with the ad, here it is in all its glory

Now that you've seen it, I'm sure you're all clamoring to own this spectacular piece of machinery that has Star Trek's Khan Noonien Singh, eugenically-enhanced prince of 1990's Earth, singing its praises. Well right now, a trip to little Port Colborne can indeed fulfill all your half-baked luxury car needs. Witness this model, albeit a few years newer than Montalban's chariot of glory, for sale right now for only $5,000:

It's in great condition for a 33 year-old mid-range Chrysler, and with only 24,000 kms on the clock, it's still got plenty of fuel-sucking, pothole-swallowing life left in it. And yes, it is equipped with the plush, overly mashmallowy sofa-chairs that made the original ad so popular:

You too can own a piece of automotive advertising history. Don't blame me, however, when everyone you meet starts laughing at your car, repeating the words 'rich, Corinthian leather'.

Famous. Full ad

For bonus marks, here's a sweet Trek-related spoof of the ad: